


The Complexities of Ghoul and Human Dynamics

by CherryJacks



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions, Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Blood and Gore, Changing Perspectives, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, More characters to be added, More tags to be added, Multi, Near Death Experiences, Rating May Change, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-13 21:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5717755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryJacks/pseuds/CherryJacks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Take a look into various scenes that show the land of Kalos from many different eyes. Those who fear darkened alleyways, and those that sit in them and hide. See the struggles of those who are reluctant of their fates, while others relish in it. </p><p>When monsters can appear like those around you, the world has become a bit more complex. Though depending on who you ask, the actual monsters are unclear. When ghouls blend into society, how is balance maintained?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Knight and the Ghoul King

~*~

There was the slight tapping of his feet against the tiled rooftop. The armor's scales clicked with the movements of his strong legs and his breastplate reflected some of the dull light that managed to leak through the grey, cloudy sky. Some in his ranking found the armor foolish, impractical, but Wikstrom took pride in its wearing.

He was like a knight of old on a crusade to vanquish an evil that leeched into the very crevices of Kalos' beautiful land. Perhaps a new set would be preferable for his work, something that was fashioned more to keep the type of enemy he planned to face at bay. There were whispers of such armor between the other Elites, formed much like the weapons they kept at their sides. Only they could be trusted with such equipment and if armor with a similar build was made available it would have to be properly tested and implemented with care.

Quinques, their weapons that helped them to fight back against the growing menaces had to be handled with massive levels of expertise, only granted by years of training. Wikstrom's gauntlet-clad hand tightened around the handle of his suitcase. His very own quinque rested inside. An elegant saber-like blade to call his own. The feel and form more to his liking of olden day weapons, but it had the power needed to destroy any ghoul that he had faced.

Such creatures, though able to appear human, were nothing but monsters that masqueraded as such. A disgusting mimicry of human life only used to draw in unsuspecting victims to their demise.  That was what Wikstrom drilled into his training each and every day. A beast like a ghoul only wanted to devour and kill, there was nothing remotely human-like in the entirety of their being. Every ghoul that he helped to remove from the street was another multiple humans that were safe from their stalking.

Wikstrom's steps came to a halt, the wide expanse of rooftop overlooked the glowing city that was mapped out before him. The dull sky trapped the city light in its clouds and framed the scene in warmth. It was false however, the wind nipped at the Knight's face to remind him of the truth of the night. The view of the city was partly blocked out by a massive form. Layers and layers of tattered cloth covered the body that hunched at the edge of the roof. Once Wikstrom's suitcase dropped by his feet, the cloaked figure's face turned to meet him.

It was like another chill cut through his armor and sent prickles up his spine. The eyes, soulless he decided, black like coal and red like a wound. They met him and he knew. The Commission of Counter Ghoul, CCG, kept many files of known ghouls that were to be slain. Each one had a description and a codename to pair with it. Wikstrom's mouth felt dry, but he refused to allow the ghoul to see anything that resembled fear take hold. It wasn't fear, he would stand by his duty without fleeing like a coward. It didn't matter who he was faced with.

Not even if it was the Faerie King that stood in his way.

The ghoul's eyes burned, framed by layers of dusty grey cloth that draped over the entirety of his body. His hair, ghostly white by contrast, hung over sections of his face and shoulders like an added shroud. Despite the fact that he didn't wear a typical mask like other more cautious hunters, his hair was one of the only things that was known of his true appearance. Even his height and body shape was unknown beneath the mountain of fabric that he used to cover himself. His posture was always hunched, which gave Wikstrom the clue that he was far taller than he let on.

The quinque was revealed from the confines of its case, a silvery blade flashed forth as Wikstrom held in easily and expertly in his grasp. The Faerie King raised an eyebrow, at least Wikstrom thought he might have, but didn't take any stance to ready himself for combat. In fact, he didn't act like any ghoul that the Knight had ever faced in the past. Such battles were burned into his mind as he remembered the snapping teeth and the ghoul's kagune whipping through the air, trying to strike him down and make a meal of him.

"Fiend!" Wikstrom boomed, his blade meeting the light as he swung it. It pulled and separated, dancing forth like a dangerous ribbon, "By my honor and service to Kalos and my Champion, I will strike you down!"

The Faerie King was unmoved by the Elite's words and continued to remain unwilling to ready for battle.

"So be it, beast." Wikstrom gritted out between clenched teeth. His stance was strong, there was no doubt in what he was supposed and willing to do, but this ghoul, this "Faerie King", there was something about him that unsettled the Elite. The quicker he could finish the task of disposal, the better. There was no way to say that they were truly alone on the battlefield. Other ghouls, ones that were too weak to face Wikstrom head-on could be lurking in the shadows, just waiting for the right moment to strike. Was that the Faerie King's plan? Was he baiting him? Waiting for others that fell behind him in rank to try to claim the Elite?

With a thunderous battle cry Wikstrom rushed forth, his blade twirling and slicing like an angry serpent wanting to strike. Right when a sharp edge threatened to cut through the many layers of cloth that covered the ghoul, he vanished. No, not actually vanish. His movements were so quick, surprisingly so, but Wikstrom's sight wasn't far behind. It took the Elite but a moment to fix his footing and try again, his vision held firmly on the ghoul's new position.

The next strikes were met with the same outcome. Every slice that even threatened to come close just made the ghoul move effortless on his feet and evade. Did his feet even touch the ground Wikstrom wondered? How the creature, he refused to think of him as a man, could move so effortlessly while hunched as beyond him. Something else began to grate on the Elite, the fact that he was yet to see the Faerie King's own kagune. He really was making no effort to counter any attack that was being thrown his way. If a game was being played, he refused to be a part of it. If the ghoul didn't wish to fight, then he would just die easily once he grew tired of dodging.

He lashed out again, a tiring onslaught of strikes and twirls, perhaps the fluid nature of his quinque would cause the ghoul to slip-up and gauge his next dodge incorrectly. At least that was Wikstrom's plan as he continued to push the attack, all the while mocked by the thin strip of skin that revealed the staring gaze of the ghoul. He didn't even seem to watch where he dodged to next, just focusing instead on the man on the attack, the Elite that wished him to die.

"Why are you so driven to end me?" The Faerie King asked, still dodging the twisting blade that would surely rip him apart if struck, "I'm so tired of this continuous war, aren't you?"

Wikstrom didn't offer an answer, only just barely hiding his surprise that the ghoul was attempting such a topic of discussion. Why would he engage a ghoul in a conversation? Why was he so driven in his task? It was simple of course, he wished to rid the streets of beasts that preyed on humanity. Sick of the war? It would of course be easier if his services were not needed, if any of the Elites, the Champion, or the other leaders simply didn't have a need to keep the ghouls in check. That wasn't the reality of the world they lived in and even if the one known as the Faerie King was tired of the fighting, it didn't change what he was.

A monster.

"I don't want to do this anymore." The ghoul's movements slowed to match the dwindling energy of his attacker, "You should leave. Why continue this pointless task?"

Wikstrom leapt back to create some distance between himself and the ghoul, his boots dragging against the textured ground and bringing his slide to a slow. His breathing was ragged and his blade drew back to form a solid shape. Even though he took a moment to catch his breath, he refused to take his sight off of the Faerie King. Such an old ghoul, no matter how well spoken or unwilling to fight, couldn't be allowed to remain. His life was expired and he needed to be disposed of. Wikstrom didn't even wish to ponder how many lives were lost to feed him in his lifetime.

After his breathing settled, he straightened his posture and brought his blade forth to show that he was ready to fight again. The Faerie King simply shook his head, "If you can kill me, I won't stop you. I have no desire to fight. Maybe if you kill me, I will get some peace."

Wikstrom's arms drooped, but he was quick to pull himself back together, "I am not doing you any service by my chosen act! You are something to be slain and slain you will be by my hand!"

"Then proceed if you are able, Knight."

The Elite found himself pausing again. He felt it, that uneasy feeling he felt before. There was something about the old ghoul he couldn't quite place. He was the one known as the Faerie King, only so many could share such a look. Yet, he didn't seem to have the viciousness and ruthless fury that he was lead to believe. The Faerie King was one that was always cautioned against, a ghoul whose abilities even Elites had to fear and prepare for.

 Wikstrom steadied his arms again and corrected his footing. His mind cleared of everything around him, leaving him with nothing but the view of the cloaked figure ahead of him. That was his target, nothing else mattered in that moment. Perhaps the Faerie King was feeling his body weakening from age, perhaps he was seeking out a worthy opponent to end him. It mattered not the reason to someone who was fiercely loyal to Kalos and her people. He pledged his service to his Champion and refused to let the oddness of one ghoul sway his stance. They are monsters, they don't share the emotions of humanity, they only know to kill. With his mind cleansed of all doubt and strength returned, Wikstrom took a breath and prepared a shout for glory.  

Another shout filled the air, but it wasn't a battle cry that had slipped past Wikstrom's lips. His side suddenly raged with heat and pain from beneath the plates of his armor. Armor that failed to protect from a sudden piercing strike. It was shredded as though simple paper from an unknown assailant. His quinque was lost from his grip as his body was tossed into the air above, barbed end of a ghoul's kagune stabbing deeper into his side. Eventually he was dropped back onto the roof, his lungs forced to push out a loud gasp of air from the impact. He was dazed, shocked even, but Wikstrom managed to turn his head to see the crouched body of another. The second ghoul's eyes were bright and wild, teeth shone with a wide grin, and their kagune still embedded into Wikstrom's tender side.

He forced some strength to fuel through his body, managing to roll away, jerk himself away before the digging end bore deeper. His side spreading the pain like a web across his flesh as he ripped free from the other, smaller ghoul.

They laughed, "All I had to do is wait!" Their laughter continued as they bound forth, animal-like and hungry, kagune flicking like a long tail from the end of their spine. They shot a look towards the Faerie King who stood motionless, seemingly unfeeling and uncaring, and spoke without any fear of the other ghoul, "I heard you were scary, terrifying even." They flicked their focus on the Elite when he tried to crawl to grab for his dropped weapon. The ghoul gave it a swift kick, skittering it just out of his reach before they continued to address the older ghoul, "Maybe when you were younger you had some bite, but not anymore! Now you are just old and feeble!" They taunted before choosing to descend on the wounded Elite, kagune rearing and ready to strike again, "Can an old man like you even call yourself a ghoul? How can you refuse to fight and devour such prey?"

The Faerie King had nothing to say to the taunting ghoul. Such a young and reckless one, only fueled by endless hunger and driven by a sense of superior power. Not worth his limited time and precious energy. He had dallied for far too long already out in the open, he desired the sanctuary of solitude until a time that he wished to come forth again.

The thought came to the forefront of his mind when he saw the discarded quinque, truthfully all he wished to do was rid the weapon from those who would use it unwisely. Without their weapons could they harm ghouls that did not deserve their wrath? At the very least if he continued to rid them of the stolen power, their efforts would be somewhat hindered.

Wikstrom's cries rattled in his ears, causing his focus to break and draw him to the helpless form. What of the humans? How would they then protect themselves from ghouls that didn't wish to find better ways to feed? From the ghouls that took pleasure in treating humanity like cattle?

"It is like cracking open a crab to eat the tender insides!" The younger ghoul practically sang, every yell of pain just adding to their joy, "I won't let a bite go to was-"

Wikstrom's face was misted red, he only blinked and yet was unable to see what exactly happened to the ghoul that had him at their mercy. All he noticed were the numerous thin spines the jutted out from the front of their face and stilled their speech. The Faerie King approached and ripped the ghoul off of him, causing him to cry out when the burrowing tail-like kagune came free yet again from his deep injury. Whatever attack that the larger ghoul unleashed, there was no evidence to be seen from his back.

"Why?" Wikstrom groaned, his hands coming free of his gauntlets to stem the river that flowed from the wound, "Why did you do that?"

The Faerie King was silent, choosing instead to tear the other ghoul's kagune free from its body. He held it in one had while he gathered Wikstrom's quinque in the other, "I'm taking these so they cannot be used against those I protect." He spoke firmly, his back turned away from the injured Elite.

His layered cloak flipped and flowed as he made to leave, only stopping to pause when he heard the Elite's struggled movements and pain-filled vocals.

 _"He won't survive."_ He thought, peering back towards the man who had tried to kill him only to prove his thoughts as fact, "If you push yourself you will die." He stated.

Wikstrom groaned out again, his hands growing slick and useless in the task to stop the flow of blood that stained the roof tiles around him. He had to agree with the Faerie King's statement unfortunately, "Then I shall feed a beast to my dishonor." He winced and squeezed his eyes shut, only to open them and find his vision filled by the Faerie King's own.

His hands were free, having opted to drop the collected weapons in favor of lifting the CCG's Elite in his arms.

"Unhand me." Wikstrom managed only weakly, his head was spinning and becoming quickly light. His eyes had to snap shut to prevent the world around him from twirling and spinning at nauseating levels. He felt like he was flying, like cold air was rushing around his body and spiriting him away. He supposed before long he would be, death had never seemed so close a possibility as before. With just a crack he dared some sight and found that the rushing air, and sense of flight wasn't his imagination.

Where the ghoul was taking him he didn't know and with his growing weakness, he couldn't gather the strength to ask or fight. He only hoped before he was consumed that he would have already passed. The fear that sliced through him earlier, he never wanted to feel that again, the fear of being ripped apart and devoured while alive.

Before Wikstrom's world faded to spotty grey and invading black, he saw it. The kagune, spread out from the ghoul's shoulders like blood infused wings, large and mighty, almost beautiful and enchanting.

"That is why you are called the Faerie King..." He muttered, voice trailing and his sight fading.

 ~*~

Then Wikstrom woke up to the sight of a stark white walls, the smell of ammonia, and the sound of beeping monitors taking his vitals. He shifted, only to twist his face from the pain that remained in his side. Hesitantly, he drew back his covers and lifted the end of his gown to find that his injury was well wrapped. A button near his IV offered him pain medication if he felt the need, and he really felt the need. He resisted however and chose instead to search around the room from the bed, trying to place missing memories into his fuzzy mind.

"I'll let him know you stopped by, sir."

Wikstrom could hear the voice of who he assumed was a nurse outside his door, "I'm sure he'll be happy to hear that the man who found him stopped by. Thank you for bringing him in!"

Regardless of the pain from doing so, regardless of the fact that he was connected by an IV or his legs were shaky. He sprung forth from his bed to rush to the door. All for the possibility that he would catch a glimpse of the ghoul from the night before, walking around with the mask of humanity.

Wikstrom ignored the surprised scream from the nurse when he swung the door open, or the panicked voices telling him that he needed to lie back down. All he could do was watch with frustration as he only managed to catch just the end of the ghoul known as the Faerie King's long white hair rounding a corner, just leaving his sight.  

Once he was finally settled, IV reinserted in his arm and wound checked for possible pulling and tearing, he asked the nurse the question that weighed on him heavily, "What was that man's name? The one who brought me here? What did he look like?" Well, what started as one question became many.

The nurse smiled, even though her patient seemed quite insistent, and injected some medication that would aid him in sleeping, "He didn't say his name, but he asked me to bring you a gift he left for you at the nurse station for when you awoke."

She left the room only to quickly return with a vase of white lilies, pollen already removed to prevent allergies. There was a small card attached to one of the smooth stems, it was quickly snatched before the medication could make Wikstrom too weary.

_"The world is not black or white."_

_-AZ_

_AZ_ , that was all that was offered as a clue. Was it a name? If it was, why even leave such knowledge with a known CCG member such as himself? Wikstrom yawned and folded the card and placed by his bedside table. The nurse had already left him without giving him further answers to his questions. They would have to wait unfortunately, his eyes were already growing too tired.

Once sleep took hold he dreamed, no dreams that could easily remain on his waking. Yet, he could still remember the feeling of flight, the cold wind passing his face, and the sight of large wings fanned out above his view. White hair brushed against him and arms that held him with care. Why? He still wondered, why wasn't he simply made a meal of? Why take the time to ensure his survival, why return to leave him a message?

 _The world is not black or white._ Perhaps, Wikstrom would think later, perhaps the one he now knew as AZ had a point.

~*~


	2. The Lost Child

When citizens were forced to walk the streets of Lumiose City at night, most knew to stay on the well illuminated sidewalks and to stay close to popular shops and businesses. It wasn't from any deep rooted fear that drove the masses to act in such a way. It was just the way the citizens always cautioned themselves. There was no telling what lurked in the shadowed alleys, behind blind corners, in empty corridors.

Most would have opted for a cab if the night had drawn too late. Most would, but not Augustine Sycamore. Truthfully, walking was not originally on his agenda that evening. It wasn't until he filed out of the shop that he noticed that his wallet was short for the cab fare. So walking it was for the lanky man whose stylish shoes gleamed with each passing lamp post. Each one marked another checkpoint closer to the sanctuary of his lab, his apartment, and more importantly his bed.  A perfect end to a rather uneventful, yet pleasing day spent out in the city.

He came to the mouth of an alleyway that opened out into the path he traveled. He passed it, perhaps sprinted would have been the correct term. Was Augustine afraid to be out at night? To most he would seem much like the general masses with his behavior, but unlike the general masses he had a healthy amount of knowledge of what could exist unseen to those unaware.

~*~

He made it his business, his hobby at least, to be educated on the matters of creatures known as ghouls. Such research was his calling as it were, something he hoped, if successful, could benefit the citizens of Kalos, surrounding regions, the world. Maybe find some way for such creatures to exist peacefully with humanity. His dear sister, she didn't quite see it the way he did, but he was thankful that she used her standing to help fund his building. Even if they were blood and Diantha only wished to keep him safe, that didn't change the fact that their views on ghouls were different.

So truthfully Augustine wasn't actually afraid of what most would only call monsters, but that didn't mean he didn't know that monsters did exist. Diantha and the rest of the CCG made sure that fact was drilled in. He didn't blame his sister for her standing, she was serving as a shining beacon for the people of Kalos and that was to be commended. They had both in their youth been shown the horrors of what a ghoul could do, but that wasn't the only side Augustine held on to. If only his sister could have experienced more than just cold blooded fury of the haunting memory they both shared.

Horrendous screams and the crunching of bone, Augustine willed such memories away to prevent their hold. There were certainly monsters that stalked in the night, observing during the day, plotting ways to take victims. What Diantha stood for, what she led, was a much needed thing to maintain the seemingly blind comfort most citizens held. What Augustine stood for, what he hoped so strongly was a possible option, was that the ghouls that didn't wish to kill could be left to live. Where he and Diantha split was that she saw no difference in ghouls, every single one was a danger in her mind. Whereas Augustine believed that some had the ability of control, that they could also be valuable members of society. Surely they had a right to exist as well. Who was he to say who deserved to inhabit the planet? It just wasn't something he felt like anyone really had the right to dictate.

He loved his sister, but his wandering thoughts made him think of past outbursts and (he hated to call them fights) disagreements, just a difference of views really.

_"We lost them, ghouls took them from us! Don't you care?"_

He cared, of course he cared. It hurt more than he wished to show that Diantha would accuse him of not caring. She didn't really mean it though, that much he knew. She just spoke from a place of pain.

_"I miss them every day, ma chère sœur. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't expect my phone to ring with a call from maman. I still wish that papa would ask what our appeal was to move to the city."_

At that point his eyes would be rimmed with red, his speech worn and Diantha would pull him close and stroke his hair. She would apologize through her sniffling nose and wish for her little brother's forgiveness. If he wasn't so emotional, he may have reminded her that she was only older by a mere two minutes. Three she would have no doubt corrected.

Usually they would then slip away to one of Diantha's favorite cafes, Cafe Soleil wasn't usually too busy and besides, they served a mean chocolate cake. It had been too long since she had such time to spend with her only sibling. Overseeing the CCG had become a full time deal for her, one that she took very seriously.

_"Something is changing Augustine."_

She told him one day while she flipped through a series of notes he had spread out on his desk. A lot of theories on ghouls, but nothing tangible. Nothing that truly interested his sister and her organization.

_"I want you to be safe."_ This was a stressed point that was a loaded statement. He knew she meant that she wished for him to pull back on his research. One day she was certain that his insistence on the study would lead to his demise. Augustine didn't want to cause her such agony so he nodded stiffly. It made him sick to know how easily he just lied to her face. His research couldn't stop now. It was a race he ran against his sister without her knowledge. He would be the one to find the solution. There had to be a solution that could save everyone. No one else had to die so meaninglessly.

~*~

With the darkened alley behind him he continued his walk back to his laboratory. His bed was even more tempting than before. The soft covers that waited for him pushed his steps to quicken. He was so exhausted, at least happily so. Once his head hit his pillow he knew that he would be in deep slumber in no time. What a lovely prospect.

Fantasies of soft bedding and deep sleep faded away when a sound caught his ears. He stopped, his face twisted in confusion. There was a cautious look sent behind him, settling on the alleyway that he sprinted past. No, he thought, his ears were playing tricks on him. He could not have heard what he thought he did.

It happened again and he jolted, his body turning almost automatically to face the walkway he had just travelled. The sound was faint, but there was no doubt that is was a whimper, a soft cry. Augustine gripped the corner of one of the walls that bordered the passage and squinted his eyes to try to make out the source. It was clearer than before, but he still couldn't make out who it was that was crying. He had figured out for sure that it was definitely crying. He didn't wish to assume, but it sounded like the cry of a child, perhaps a young girl.

his teeth worked at his bottom lip as his gaze passed nervous looks into the dark that awaited him if he was to venture towards the source of the sound. Eventually his fingers released the corner and he began slow steps into the alleyway. Each step made the cry clearer and crisper until a small hunched form came into sight.

It appeared to be a young girl like he had thought. Matted dark hair bellowed over her arms that hid her face and rested on her thin legs. What concerned Augustine the most was that she was alone, crying, and appeared to have been out on the street for some time.

"Miss." He began with an extremely soothing voice, his hand hovered but did not make contact. Her crying stopped, "Do you need help?"

She appeared to wipe her face with her dingy sleeve before she looked up at him. There was a lackluster nod as though she wasn't completely focused on the question posed. Her eyes seemed to look through him instead of at him. Augustine's heart sank. The young girl must have been in some sort of shock. He didn't want to imagine what she must have been through, "Are your parents around?" He asked, already sure based on her condition that he knew the answer.

Her mouth opened to speak, but all she could managed was a weak gasp before she began to whimper again. Augustine didn't wish to startle the girl, but at the sight of her tears he placed a hand on her back and gently rubbed it, "It will be alright," He cooed, "What is your name? I want to help you." He paused and thought for a moment, "I run the lab nearby. I can set up a place for you to rest on a pullout couch in the break-room."

The young girl nodded softly again, her whimpering settling. So Augustine continued, "You are free to eat anything you would like out of the fridge. Then in the morning we can get you to a youth shelter. It will be ok, you don't have to stay out here tonight."

"Emma." The young girl finally answered, "That's my name." Her face darkened as she focused on her still feet, "Why are you being so nice to me?" The question was so quiet, almost said with a hint of disgust or contempt.

It caught Augustine off guard, his hand hovered off of Emma's shoulder as though if it remained it would be burned, "You seem like you could use the help, why wouldn't someone want to help you?"

Emma used the wall behind her to stand, she still kept her gaze locked towards her feet however, "You aren't like most men that have come to me. Most have had other ideas rather than helping," She sniffled and wiped her nose, "I actually believe that you want to help me..." Her voice trailed off and her arms gripped around her middle tightly.

Augustine could feel his stomach twist and repulse at the implications behind her words, "I can promise you I will not let anyone harm you." He held his hand out for her, "I won't betray your trust."

Emma's face slowly rose to meet his, "I believe you and that is why I'm sorry."

Her shoulder's shook like she was going to cry again, which made Augustine kneel down in front of her like a doting parent, "You have nothing to be sorry for, let's get out of this alley and get you safe and warm."

It was of no use, Emma was crying yet again and all Augustine could do was try to calm her down with soothing tones and a careful hand.

"Why can't you be bad!" Her head shook and her hands tangled into her long knotted hair, "The others made this so easy, but you are too nice!"

"What do you-" Augustine's question stalled on his tongue when Emma's eyes flashed dangerously.

All he could see was black like the dark that surrounded them between the buildings and burning red centers that bore into his own grey quivering stare. There was not a single doubt that ran through him in that moment. He finally understood why this girl was so upset that he was being so kind. She was a ghoul and she was hungry. If he had been a monster like the other men there would have been no hesitation. Her teeth would have already tore through his face and the rest of his body made a feast.

Her hesitation was what Augustine tried to latch on to, "Emma, please." his hands were brought uselessly in front of him, a weak attempt at a shield, "I can still help you. You don't want to do this."

He could see the confusion rock through her, "I'm a ghoul!" She exclaimed as though that statement meant something profound to him. It may have to some. Others would have ceased in seeing Emma as a young girl, instead only choosing to see a monster. Not Augustine though, even with the reveal he still refused to see her as anything more than a scared child that needed help.

"I still want to help you." He reached forth to touch her tiny shoulder, only to pull away with haste when her teeth tried chomp forward and crunch through his hand.

She screamed, not forming any further words. Her back erupted in formless, shell-like attachments. They layered, without any real planned placement, over her shoulders like armor, the rest coating her arm and leaving it jagged and deadly. If the circumstance would have been different, Augustine would have liked to have studied Emma's interesting kagune. It was wild and lacking order, much like the girl that produced it. It coated her thin shoulders, instantly making her seem broader. It was evident that there wouldn't be any further discussion between her and her would-be meal. It was the nature of what they were. She was a ghoul and he a human, he just hoped that he could have avoided being the prey.

Not that Augustine was going to stay slumped on the ground and allow the young girl to feast. He rather liked the idea of his rebelling insides remaining inside of him, even if his earlier dinner was threatening evacuation. So he bolted to his feet, running the wrong way down the alley. Only turning briefly to see that Emma was indeed tearing after him. Her bright eyes were burning, her protective kagune jutting haphazardly and framing her head, and her mouth was open and ravenous. Her teeth snapping angrily against each other and desperate to sink into his flesh. All of it was the sign of a ghoul that had gone too long without eating. She was weak and desperate, she needed the meal to survive.

Strangely, it made Augustine's heart ache, but he could not risk his capture. His mind supplied him with all the visuals he never asked for if he was caught. He could only hope if that night was to be his last that the girl would have the common decency to kill him quickly. It still wasn't the most attractive of thought so he continued to run through the narrow passage, ignoring the building burn from his frantic breathing. The fear was finally digging into him, which in some way was a blessing. The adrenaline gave his muscles new life and made his grueling pace easier to bear.

He had an alarm on his handheld device, it was something that Diantha had insisted on. She knew her brother too well to think that he would always remain out of trouble. He had only used it once since it was installed, it was an act he regretted immensely for his own personal reasons, and he never wanted to be forced to do it again. He knew what it would mean for the young girl that was chasing him.

Diantha would think he was being foolish, perhaps he was. Even though the young girl was a ghoul, even though she wished to kill and devour him, he still wanted her to have a chance at life. If he was to press the alarm her chance would end. The CCG wouldn't stop until she was deposed of. Augustine couldn't bear the thought of one of the members chasing down a child and ending their life. There had to be another way.

Even with his added adrenaline, he just couldn't keep up the pace. His legs were protesting his movements and his chest heaved from his aching lungs and pounding heart. In his panic his shoulder's bashed against the narrow opening between buildings, slowing his already diminishing speed.

Emma had no such limitation, her armored shoulder's felt no pain from the rough walls. Her pace while slowed from her kagune, remained a constant. Her hands surged forth like claws, gripping and tearing at Augustine's shirt, pulling it free from being tucked. Her dominant arm whipped, finally landing on her target.

The hit cracked into Augustine's back with much more force than he ever expected the young girl to possess. A yelp of pain sputtered through his lips, his legs staggered, and his hands reached out just in time to catch himself from bashing his face into the cobblestone ground. A spike of panic caused him to immediately roll off his stomach, giving him the ability to throw his arms up protectively when Emma descended onto him.

The situation left Augustine with no concept of where he was. He could only focus on the ravenous ghoul that wished to bite out his throat, any surrounding company went without notice. That was, until such company chose to intervene.  

It happened so fast. Augustine was yelling, begging even for the young girl to listen to him, to rethink what she was trying to do. His strength was fleeting and quite useless against that of a ghoul. He could feel the breeze off her bite, he could see her kagune rearing as she drew her arm back to strike. At least the end was going to be quick, he thought. At least she could give him that mercy.

Except the strike never came. Instead her weight was suddenly removed from him, a piercing shriek rang in his ears when she was so easily thrown against the opposite wall. A man stood between them. Augustine could see three scaly tendrils formed from the middle of his back, it was another kagune, another ghoul. The tall man held the young ghoul in place with two of the tendrils, they easily pierced the armor-like shell on her shoulders. He turned and gave Augustine a sideway glance. The only thing that burned more than the red coals of his eyes was his hair and beard. Like a brilliant flame, Augustine thought.  

"You are in an unfortunate situation." He droned, "Almost made a meal by such a distasteful creature." He returned his attention on Emma who was wriggling against the stabbing tendrils. she whimpered from the pain, making Augustine jump with concern.

"Don't hurt her!" He pleaded. Causing the older ghoul to look at him puzzled, or perhaps he was being looked at with a hint of curiosity. Now he was sure he was completely mad, his grip on the realities of the world forever damaged. Augustine now stood defending the young ghoul that had just tried to eat him, against another ghoul that would no doubt eat him instead. It was so clear what he had just stumbled into. It was a war of turf and he was to be the prize.

Despite that, he chose to continue, "I promised her that I wouldn't let anyone harm her!" Even though he tried to speak with strength, he had to admit that when the terrifyingly tall ghoul approached he shrank.

"Why would you promise that?" The redhead asked, his voice was smooth like he was trying to come off as nonthreatening, unfortunately he wasn't all that successful.

Augustine took a breath, passed a concerned glance to Emma and returned to meet the eyes of the other ghoul, "She can't help what she is, she didn't mean it." Emma was watching him intently now, still struggling against her painful bindings, "You could help her far better than I could hope to. Will you please?"

The taller ghoul still maintained his hold on the girl, but his expression seemed to soften, "You should leave now."

Those words were not what Augustine expected to hear so he was left standing awkwardly still processing them. The ghoul took it as a sign that he needed further reassurance on his request.

"She will not be harmed, but you must leave now." The last word was marked with urgency and Augustine decided that it wasn't to be ignored.

His first few steps stumbled from his continued shock of his ordeal, but soon he found some strength in his steps and was quick to disappear from the pair of ghouls that watched his escape.

"Let me go!" Emma whined, but it went ignored as the older ghoul pulled her along with him. They came out together, her hopelessly dragging her feet, at the other end of the alley and walked until a bright red store front came into view. Once inside, what Emma learned was a cafe, she was released none too carefully.  

"Xerosic." She heard the ghoul practically spit into a strange communication device. The pudgy man who possessed that name appeared in a hologram in the ghoul's hand, "Yes, Lysandre?" Xerosic responded.

"I'm sending down a girl. You are to feed her and take her into your care." There was a small whine that escaped the other man, but he remained quiet otherwise, "Then you are to instruct her on our rules of conduct and what will be expected of her."

Xerosic looked quite displeased, but eventually answered, "Yes, whatever you say. I just love taking care of a child." The call ended and the sarcasm was ignored. At least it was ignored by the one called Lysandre.

He turned to Emma who was busying herself by taking in just how red the inside of the cafe really was and nursing the painful wounds at her shoulders, "Follow the staircase down, Xerosic will find you." He pressed a hidden switch that revealed the staircase that lead down below. Emma hardly hesitated, the promise of a meal sent her rushing down the staircase.

~*~

Later that evening Xerosic knocked on Lysandre's door, he only waited for a moment before letting himself in. Lysandre was sat at his desk with a half empty cup of black coffee that was still giving off steam. he was preoccupied with a newspaper, but pulled away from it to regard the other man.

"Something is on your mind." Lysandre said matter-of-factly.

"That girl." Xerosic began, picking a chair to sit at, "She informed me that there was a human that you sent away."

Lysandre grunted and took a long sip from his cup.

"Was that wise?"

Xerosic was concerned, it was something that Lysandre could have almost been flattered by. Except it wasn't truly his safety that the other man was concerned about, truthfully he was more worried about the fate of the rest. The other ghouls that sought sanctuary under Lysandre's care. They ran a careful system of secrecy, he owned a nice cafe that served many humans throughout the day. None aware that their servers may have been watering at the mouth looking at them.

"You should learn to trust me more. That human is not an issue."

Xerosic leaned his elbows on Lysandre's desk and tapped his fingers irritatingly, "It isn't like you. Normally you would have just done way with such a problem, ghoul and human. Why spare both?"

Lysandre folded the paper in front of him and brought his hands together in thought, "Because he asked me to spare her."

Xerosic huffed, but let his boss continue.

"I've never seen a human care so much about the fate of a ghoul, so I suppose I thought that he was worth sparing as well." Lysandre took another drink and said no more, he was content with the answer he gave.

Whether or not Xerosic was content was unknown, but he knew that he was meant to leave the subject be so he saw himself out. Lysandre meanwhile, returned to his paper and flipped it over only to pause at an article, "Curious." he said to himself.

The article that caught his eye was accompanied by a picture of a small group of staff members celebrating some recent renovations on an old building in the Southern Boulevard. One member stood out to Lysandre more than the others, it was a face that he had just seen that night.

 

* * *

**_  
Professor Augustine Sycamore thanks his sponsors for the completion of the laboratory renovation and repairs._ **

_The newly named professor had this to say about the completed project, "It is just marvelous! I'm certain that we will be able to use this new lab for some real good in the world! My hope is that the things we learn here will not only assist the people of Kalos, but the world!"_

* * *

 

"Curious." Lysandre mumbled again to himself and the remaining dregs of his coffee were downed. Perhaps he would see Augustine Sycamore again.


End file.
